Harry Montana
by MileySmilez
Summary: Combine one of the most famous book series with one of the most famous TV shows, and what do you get? Miley's going off to a fancy boarding school, but what happens when she boards the wrong train?
1. The Wrong Train

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything Disney, Harry Potter, Hannah Montana, etc. All of this is from my creativity. **

**A/N: I'm not a huge HP fan, but I love HM and I think that it would be fun to join them together. So I'm going to take a stab. Remember, if I don't update immediately, it was because I was putting out this idea so I'd remember. The beginning is super rushed because I only have five minutes left.**

I tackled my suitcase and secured the latch. I sighed heavily. I was leaving my house in a few minutes and heading for an expensive boarding school because of a terrible fire that consumed my school. It would take a while to rebuild and it was the only high school that was local, so my daddy decided a boarding school would be a better idea.

"Miles? I've made the calls—they'll be announcing Hannah's vacation soon on national television. Are you ready? The plane will be arriving at the station in two hours. We'd better get a move on." He climbed up the stairs are grabbed my multiple suitcases. After an hour, we were packed and on our way to the airport.

"Miles, I am going to miss you so much," whispered my daddy, embracing me and holding on tight. "Call me every day, no matter how much you damage the phone bill. I will always be happy to hear from you. Be strong. It's only temporary." I cried a few tears, kissed my dad on the cheek, and boarded my plane.

"Welcome to Flight 44, heading to London. Please fasten your seatbelts and enjoy the flight," announced the attendant. After munching unsurely on the airplane food, I decided it was time to take a nap. I wouldn't be accustomed to the time zone change, and if I got some sleep when I was in my element, I'd be awake when I was out of it. I fell asleep after half an hour, the opening strains of a Disney moving lulling me.

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After getting off of the plane, I was rushed to a train station by a taxi driver my dad had phoned. He didn't speak English unfortunately, so it was an awkward ride. When we arrived at the train station, he explained to me in poor English, "Go platform nine."

I nodded. I fished in my pockets, pulled out my ticket, and looked for the train. I spotted a busty red headed woman ushering a few red headed children and a super cute raven haired boy. But she was urging them _into a pillar. _What? But suddenly, the children walked right into and _through _the pillar! They just, like, disintegrated into it. I was at loss for words.

I walked up to the woman. "Excuse me? Can you show me how to do that?" I asked politely. The woman smiled. "First year? You're a little big for one. Or are you a fifth year who has some catching up to do?" I was confused. "Well, um, I'm fifteen and I've never been to this school—my old school had some fire problems." She nodded understandingly. "Magic schools normally have difficulty with fire spells," she said. "Alright, dear, just grab your things and walk straight into that pillar, and you'll be at the platform." I shrugged and did as instructed. I was prepared for the impact and pain, but none came. When I opened my eyes, a train was right in front of me, with students saying goodbye to their parents right in front. I decided this was my train. How could it not be? The woman followed shortly behind me. She beckoned for all of her children to come close to her in a huddle.

"Dears, we've got a new student. She'll be a fifth year, but she hasn't been to Hogwarts before. She's going to need some private tutoring sessions with Dumbledore, but she'll be fine in the long run. I'm going to need you three"—she pointed to the black haired boy, a red headed boy, and a girl with bushy brown hair who I didn't notice earlier—"to watch out for her."

"What's her name?" asked the red headed boy who looked my age and was supposed to watch out for me. The lady smacked her head. "I am so sorry, I didn't pick it up. Dear?" She looked at me. "Oh, I'm Miley. Nice to meet you all." The black haired boy stared at me. "No offense, Mille, but you have a queer accent," he commented. "No offense, but my name's pronounced Miley. As in smiley. And it's not weird in America—I'm from Tennessee and California," I informed them. They shrugged, all most likely confused.

"Well, I'm Hermione," said the bushy haired girl. "And this is Harry, Ron, Ginny, George, and Fred. Oh, and this is Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Ginny, George, and Fred's mum. You can sit with Harry, Ron, and I on the train. We'd better hurry; the train whistles is blowing." Everybody said goodbye to Mrs. Weasley and we all boarded the train.

"Let's sit in this compartment," said Harry, indicating a vacant compartment. Us four slid into it. Harry smiled at me. "So, Miley…" he began, "…why don't you tell us a bit more about yourself and why you're here?"

"Well, um, I guess I'm here because my old school had a fire and its still being fixed. And as for myself…well, I _really _love to sing and dance, cheerleading is my favorite sport, my best friend's name is Lily, and I was going out with Jake Ryan—"

"_Jake Ryan?" _Hermione interrupted. "He is too cute! I don't watch his program often, only occasionally on the Internet, but from what I've seen, he's adorable. And you _dated _him? Really?" I nodded. "Yes. His ego is like a whale. Sometimes I can't see past it." Hermione frowned. "Yes, most celebrities have huge heads."

"Not Hannah Montana," I said immediately. "She's awesome." My friends looked at me as though I were completely insane. "Um…who is Hannah Montana?" asked Ron shyly. He hadn't been talking much. My jaw dropped. "You don't know who she is?" I asked in utter amazement. "She's the number one pop sensation in all of America—oh, that's why. You'd find her on the Internet. Just search Hannah Montana." They nodded importantly.

After a few hours, Hermione said matter-of-factly, "We'd better change into our robes now." I stared at her blankly. "Robes? I'm afraid I didn't receive a robe," I admitted. Hermione looked around to make sure nobody was watching. "Alright, well, over the summer I was working on a duplicate spell, and I think I've perfected it. I'll duplicate my robe, okay?"

**A/N: I know they aren't allowed to do magic outside of school, even on the train, but pretend that they can for this one time. Hehe. **

Wait…did she say spell? What? Hermione whispered a few gibberish words and her robe magically turned into two! The only difference was that hers had a patch of a lion sewn on and mine was blank. We all changed. I didn't question what I'd seen. I'd find out in time. But things were beginning to add up. After we finished changing, a not-too-cute blonde boy with a pointy nose and a seemingly big ego walked over to our compartment.

"Go away, Malfoy," sneered Harry. Malfoy glared at him. "Relax, Potter, I'm not here to criticize you. I have a whole term to do _that. _But word's been traveling around the train that you have a super cute new exchange student from America—oh, there she is! How embarrassing." He obviously called me super cute because he knew I was there and he was trying to flirt with me. Pathetic. But I pretended I didn't notice. I extended my hand. "Hey, I'm Miley. Nice to meet you." He grabbed it and _kissed _the back of it. I was crying on the inside, but I faked a smile on the out. I didn't need any enemies already. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Malfoy, back off. Besides, she's going to be in Gryffindor, and you know it. I thought Slytherins didn't interact socially with Gryfinndors?"

**A/N: Sorry if I misspell anything pertaining to Hogwarts (like the professors' names and the houses). **

Malfoy shrugged and smiled deviously. "That's because there's never been a cute Gryffindor." He winked at me. "Besides," he continued, "you don't know she'll be in it. She could be in anything." Hermione rolled her eyes. "There's only three possibilities for her, trust me. Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor. She's not as slimy and sleazy as you Slytherins," Ron spat. Malfoy frowned and formed slits with his eyes. "Fine. But if you ever get sick of these bozos, Miley, I'm _always _available." Harry laughed. "That's because no girl wants to go out with you besides Pansy!" Malfoy looked like he wanted to lunge at Harry, but resisted (probably because I was watching). "Goodbye, Miley." He winked one last time.

Harry slammed the compartment door after Malfoy left. "Don't associate with him, Miley," he snapped. "He's super bad news. His dad works with Voldemort." I had no clue what that meant, but I nodded anyways. "See? It doesn't make _her _uncomfortable when I use his name!" Harry pointed out. Hermione and Ron shrugged as if to say, "Oh, well."

After a while more on the train and talking, we stopped. "We're at Hogwarts!"

**Review for more.**


	2. You're a Muggle!

**To All of My Reviewers: Thank you for pointing out my grammatical mistakes. I wasn't offended. I wrote and typed this in a short, rushed period of time. And looking back at the train whistles error, I realize that I meant to type "train whistle is blowing" but I accidentally hit the "s" button. And Hermione didn't recognize Hannah's name because she isn't very up-to-date with pop culture, all though Hannah is worldwide. And she only knew Jake's because she found him on the internet when she was browsing. He was in an advertisement on the page she was looking at. And one more thing: If I mess up anything that has to do with Harry Potter (like a tradition or something that's supposed to happen at the school), I'm sorry. Please don't comment about it.**

I peered out of the compartment window, and my jaw immediately dropped. Our destination was an old, decrepit, crumbling castle on a small island. It didn't look like the boarding school I'd pictured at all! I was urged out of the train and next thing I knew I was in a carriage that carried its own weight—and by that, I mean it was driving itself and pulling itself! I was kind of freaked out, but I didn't question anything. I'd let Harry, Ron, and Hermione explain to me when they were ready. I fished in my pocket, grabbed my cell phone, and pulled it out. _Darn, no service!_

The three people across from me stared. "What is that?" asked Ron. "It's a Muggle device," she explained. "It's called a cell phone. It's used to make calls to other people." What's a Muggle? And why didn't they know what a cell phone was? Harry stared at me accusingly. "Why do you have a Muggle contraption?" he asked me suspiciously. "What's a Muggle?" I asked, feeling stupid. "It's a non-magical human," Ron explained. "Don't you know that?" I grew hot all over. Magic…I didn't think magic existed. Oh, my gosh, that's what was happening. I was trapped in a magical world. I wasn't supposed to be here! "No," I croaked. Hermione, sitting quietly in her corner, was calculating something. "I know why," she said smartly. "You _are _a Muggle! You're not even supposed to be here!"

I started _sobbing. _I probably looked like an immature idiot, but I was so upset. I wanted to go home. I was millions of miles away and I wanted to go back. Ron, Hermione, and Harry were angry at me, but their facial expressions showed sympathy. Girls crying always alter peoples' moods. Hermione looked at me thoughtfully. "I'm sorry. You probably just want to get back to America, and I understand. We'll get you on the next plane home as soon as possible."

Suddenly I was angry. I couldn't even explain it. But I was _mad. _I guess I blamed my three magical friends for all of this. But I should've blamed my curiosity. All of the sudden, my seat felt hot. Very, very hot. As if on fire. I jumped up suddenly and examined where I'd been sitting. It was _charred. _

I practically exploded with anger and frustration. "Who lit my sit on fire?" I asked accusingly, glaring. "Not me," they said in unison. Hermione, being too-smart-for-her-own-good again, suddenly exclaimed, "Maybe you did, Miley!" I stared at her skeptically, as did the boys. "No, really," she argued. "Miley might have powers! She just doesn't know how to control them. Maybe it was fate for her to show up. I say she stays at Hogwarts and finds out if she really has powers or not. What do you all say?"

Ron quickly shouted, "She should stay!" I blushed. I obviously was magnetic towards magical boys. Harry smiled at me, semi-flirtatiously. "Sure, why not?" Hermione grinned. "Miley, don't be so scared. If you can catch a seat on fire already, you're a born natural."

"Of course I didn't catch the seat on fire…." I muttered. They didn't hear me. After five minutes of riding along silently, Ron interrupted the quiet. "Wait…what are we going to tell McGonagall? She's not going to take in a student who just appears at her doorstep. Miley would only be accepted if she received an acceptance letter! We're doomed."

Hermione frowned. "Don't be so pessimistic. If Miley really does have powers, she'll most likely be welcomed here. Or maybe something else happened." She didn't seem very positive. The rest of the ride was quiet. Finally, the carriage stopped and we were allowed to get out.

We were greeted by a very large man with frizzy hair longer than mine and a large beard. He reminded me slightly of Uncle Earl. "First years oer 'ere!" he shouted. Hermione nudged me. "That's Hagrid. Go tell him that you're a fifteen year old and it's your first year attending Hogwarts," she whispered. My palms grew clammy but I did as told.

"Excuse me, sir?" I asked sheepishly. He didn't hear me. "Excuse me, sir?" I said, much louder. He turned. "Ello. Who might you be?" he said kindly. I relaxed. "I'm Miley." He laughed a heart laugh. "Miley? That's a queer name. But it's pretty. Are you American?" I nodded. "I'm from California." He smiled. "So, what can I do for you, _Miley_?" he asked, drawing out my name as if pronouncing it was a game. I took a deep breath. "Well, this is my first year attending Hogwarts, but I'm fifteen. What year will I be placed in?" Hagrid held up his index finger and pulled out a long roster. "You'll be in fifth year, but you'll have to attend private tutoring sessions on the weekends and sorting in a couple of minutes. Come with me."

"Wait…." I said slowly and unsurely. "Is my name on that list?" Hagrid nodded. He jabbed a finger towards the bottom of the list. "Miley Stewart." He squinted at the list. "Wait…it says your owl had difficulty reaching America—how'd you know to come here?" he asked. "Fate," I answered lamely. He shrugged. "Alright, then, miss, come with me and we'll get you into a house."

"That's okay, I'll just be in Gryffindor with my new friends," I said quickly. Hagrid laughed. "Well, I'd love to make you happy but sorting is a difficult process. We sort by character traits. And who might these new friends be?" I smiled sheepishly. "Well, I didn't actually catch their last names, except one. But they're Harry, Ron Weasley, and Hermione." Hagrid immediately lit up and grinned so large I was kind of worried. "Um, are you alright?" I asked, slowly backing up. "Sorry, it's just that those three are my absolute favorite students. They visit me frequently and I've been looking out for them since they were little first years. Since you probably don't know, Harry is kind of a celebrity. He's known as 'the Boy Who Lived' because when he was a little baby, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named (a hideous creature whose dream is to finish us off; I'll explain more later) tried to curse him to death, but Harry repelled him and sucked his powers out of him. But he recently returned this summer, and not many people believe. So be on your guard. This may not mean too much, but it's very important."

I nodded. So Harry was a celebrity. He and Hannah would make a perfect couple. Good thing I brought my wig along just in case. "Well, let's go. You can get into that boat over there with me." When all of the first years and I were in the boats, Hagrid stepped in to mine, causing it to wobble slightly. And we paddled off towards the castle.


	3. Sorting and Feasting

The castle was even more magnificent up close. When we finally reached the shore, all of the little eleven- and twelve-year-olds climbed wearily out of the boats. Instead of being herded through a large doorway and into a lighted hallway, Hagrid motioned for me to follow him in a more private fashion. We took a separate door and walked down a darkened hall. We took a sharp left turn and after walking a bit more, we arrived at an office. An…_older _woman was standing in the heart of the office, preening a decrepit…_hat. _I decided not understanding and knowing would be much better than knowing and understanding.

"Professor, this is Miley Stewart. The American whose owl was delayed, remember? She's here miraculously, and we're going to need her private tutor and her sorting. Can we borrow the hat so she can join her classmates as soon as possible?" asked the giant. The old lady offered me a small, uptight smile.

"Of course," she said in a somewhat Irish accent. She presented the hat with much pride to Hagrid. Then she indicated a wooden stool. I sat precariously and inhaled unsurely as Hagrid perched the hat atop my head. It _made noises _as it sat there, deciding my fate. I was worried. What if I was placed in the same house as that horrid Malfoy boy? I would die of misfortune!

"Hmmm," the hat said thoughtfully. "I should like to place this one in… Gryffindor!" I exhaled quickly and a smile formed on my face. I did it. I made it into my new friends' house! I jumped up and handed the hat to the lady. "Where am I supposed to go now?" I asked Hagrid joyously. He didn't look so upset himself. "Can you take me there?" I questioned. "Of course, miss," Hagrid agreed, smiling. He led me to a giant hallway with candles dancing above our heads. I scampered eagerly over to the Gryffindor table. I was halfway there when I was rudely stopped by that complete _jerk! _

"Miley!" he called, grabbing my arm as I passed. "Please, tell me you're in Slytherin. You can sit right next to me." He scooted over a bit and patted the vacant area beside him. He winked at me again. I can't _stand _that. I stared at him blankly. "Um, sorry, Malfoy, but I'm in Gryffindor. I'm going to have to pass that…_kind _offer. See you." I ran off quickly. Hermione repeated Malfoy's motion, but I accepted _her _offer. I sat down with pride, embracing the stares that wafted over towards me. I was used to it, being Hannah Montana.

"I am so glad you made it in Gryffindor," beamed Hermione. "You seemed like a Gryffindor." Ron nodded in agreement. "Definitely. The whole lot of them"—he gestured rudely towards the Slytherin table—"were hoping you'd be in _their _house because they all know Malfoy's got the hots for you. Malfoy's not exactly admired—more feared. And not in the respectable way, either." Harry said, "Ron's right—Malfoy's a load of rubbish. He thinks he is popular, but he doesn't know the half of it."

A _very _old man took the stage graciously and announced, "Welcome to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am your headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. I am so pleased you could make it." I watched the man, intrigued, as he finished his speech. Then the first years stole the stage, each getting sorted. Slytherin received the most newcomers. "Bad batch this year," whispered Ron to Harry. Harry frowned sympathetically and nodded. Finally, after the man—I mean, Professor Dumbledore completed his speech, we all applauded enthusiastically. Suddenly, food of different types formed out of nowhere on golden platters in the middle of the tables. I immediately helped myself—it had been a tiring day!

Ron attacked a chicken leg greedily and attempted conversation with a full mouth. "Row, wa you dink bout Haaawaa?" he asked, pointing his half-eaten chicken leg at me. I giggled nervously and pushed the chicken leg out of my face. "Translation? In English, perhaps?" I asked in a joking manner. Harry explained. "He means, 'So, what do you think about Hogwarts?'" I smiled, finally understanding. "It's beautiful, from what I've seen. I can only guess there's many surprises waiting for me in the corridors."

All three of them nodded eagerly, laughing. "You don't know the half of it," Harry marveled.


	4. The Tutor

Harry, Ron, and Hermione showed me where the Gryffindor common room was. That night, I curled up on one of the comfortable chairs around me and started watching some of my live performances—okay, I didn't realize how weird that sounded until I said that…let me explain. I watch my performances to see what I can improve. Not because I'm vain. Hermione was penning her Potions homework neatly while Ron and Harry played chess. Only the pieces _moved. _I had a _lot _of getting used to.

"What are you listening to?" Hermione asked me when she looked up and saw me toying with my buttons. I smiled at her. "Watching," I corrected. "And it's Hannah Montana." She clapped her hands together with delight. "That's fantastic! Now I can see and hear her! May I?" I nodded eagerly. If she liked Hannah, I could keep on respecting and liking her. If she hated Hannah, I wouldn't feel so chummy to her. I removed my right earbud and handed it to her. She inserted it carefully and diverted her attention to my screen. The performance I happened to be on was my favorite. I couldn't find a single thing that I thought needed improving. Hermione watched in silence, completely stoic, for the entire performance. I was slightly worried, but I shrugged it off. Finally, iPod-I finished up the song and the real me turned to Hermione anxiously.

"Well…." I held my breath. "She looks like your average popstar stereotype—blonde hair, blue eyes, average height, super skinny, etc.—" I frowned. "—but she doesn't match the average popstar performance stereotype! Her voice is rich and strong, not filmy, fake, and edited. Her dancing is energetic and exuberant while her facial expressions light up the entire place. I'm definitely going to have to keep tabs on her." That's it. Hermione was officially my new best friend.

Before I could say this in a less creepy way, there was a knock on the door. "Is Miley Stewart in there?" asked the voice, which obviously belonged to a male. "Yes, be right there," I called back. I pushed myself out of the squishy chair and made my way over to the door. I pulled it open and a guy with a scroll was standing there, looking all official.

"I have a note for you. It involves your magical tutoring," informed the deliverer. "You should read it thoroughly and make sure you are not late. Trust me; your tutor's a toughie." And on that cheerful note, he handed me the scroll and walked away. Harry and Ron abandoned their game and Hermione jumped to my side. "What does it say?" all three demanded in unison. Ron whispered something that sounded like "snake" to Harry, who nodded in solemn agreement. Oh, great. Everybody knows something I don't. At least I have one secret to keep me sane. I unrolled the scroll and attempted to read the fancy calligraphy. I couldn't, so I succumbed and gave the scroll to Hermione.

"Dear Miss Stewart," she read. "Welcome to Hogwarts! Because of your unfortunately delayed arrival, it will be required of you to take private magic lessons. You will switch tutors whenever one has taught all they can. Please meet your first tutor—" She broke off. "Who? Who is my first tutor?" I urged. Hermione took a deep breath and continued: "—Professor Severus Snape. Meet him in the dungeon at nine o'clock this Saturday. Do not come either early or late, and be prepared. Professor Snape will supply you with everything you will need for your tuition at Hogwarts."

Ron and Harry gasped. "Snape?" echoed Harry. "They can't do this to her!" Ron bellowed. I looked at them quizzically. "I'm sorry if I'm completely missing the point," I ventured, "but what's so bad about this Snape dude? He's giving me free stuff—how bad can he be?" Ron threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. "How bad can he be?" he roared. I jumped. "Super bad, that's how bad! He's a followed of You-Know-Who, and he's tried to kill Harry (I think…a lot of people have tried to kill Harry, it's hard to keep up)! Plus, he's determined to make life horrible and unlivable for every Gryffindor, _especially _those associated with Harry, Hermione, and me! You better learn quickly so they can transfer you to another tutor. Make sure you don't get on his bad side."

"Gee, thanks," I said skeptically, walking away, _super _excited for my new tutor.


	5. The Bench by the Water

While I was lying on my bed, trying to decide my approach to my newfound tutor, my cell phone began vibrating like crazy in my pocket. I had completely neglected it! I removed it carefully, worried to see how many missed calls and unread text messages.

**5 Missed Calls! 15 New Text Messages! **greeted my phone. "Mama Mia!" I shouted. All five of the missed calls were from Lily (wait, no, one was from my daddy) and a third of the text messages were from Lily, the rest an assortment of my dad, Oliver, and Jake. I decided to only open the text messages, and only the ones from Lily and my father. Lily's last four text messages said, "**Hello? Are you there? Miley! Why are you ignoring me???**" Her original text message stated, "**Hey, Miles, missing you like crazy! Hannah may be temporarily gone, but she's still super popular! So (I can't remember if you're going to an all-girls school or not) are there any cute boys that you've met? Text me back ASAP. Love you, babe. ******** Lily.**" I sighed. I couldn't disclose my secret location, so I just said to Lily: **Hey, girl! It's so beautiful here. No there's no cute guys. I am so angry! The dorms are awesome and this place is unique. Sorry if I can't text you—I am so busy. **I mashed the send button, but it immediately displayed the "failed" sign. I groaned and rushed to Harry. "Why won't my cell phone work?" I demanded. He grimaced. "Ooh, sorry, Miley, but remember? None of the Muggle devices work here. Sorry again."

I sighed in pure frustration. "It's alright," I said calmly. Harry smiled sympathetically. "Do you want to go for a walk?" he asked suddenly, his face becoming alert. I was taken aback. I stared at him blankly for a couple moments, and he became embarrassed and starting blushing. "No, no, no, don't be upset! Of _course _I'll go on a walk with you. Where to?" Harry immediately brightened. "I think we should go down to the lake; they have a beautiful sitting area right by the water." I blushed and offered a nervous smile. "Let's go."

We left the castle quickly and hurried outside. When we located a rundown path that led to the lake area, we eagerly took it; we'd been traveling on rough and uneven gravel with hidden tree roots (Harry tripped twice; since I'm used to having to be agile and quick and light as a feather on stage, I didn't). Finally, I saw what he was talking about. A wooden bench that was a little beaten up rested on top of a slight hill. It was framed by beautiful trees and had a perfect view of the sun sinking and the moon rising, creating glossy and beautiful shadows over the lake. It was totally romantic. For a traumatized kid, Harry knew how to be romantic. Too bad he was a little awkward.

We sat down and after a few silent moments, Harry attempted conversation. "Hey, Miley, what's it like in America?" he asked, never diverting his eyes from the lake. I followed suit. "Nice, I guess. But we don't have the same beauties that England does. I suppose we have our own unique beauties, but nothing compared to yours. Except in the area I live in. Our beaches could kick your guys' butts." He laughed timidly. A few more awkward moments, then, "Miley, listen, I'm going to be dead honest with you; I know I only just met you, but I feel deeply and passionately connected to you." My eyes bulged. I hoped he hadn't noticed. I liked Harry already, but how awkward would it be to hook up after a few measly _hours? _Kind of pathetic and desperate, if you ask me. Harry inhaled slowly and picked up where he left off confidently. "And not only are you kind and fair, but you are stunning and everything I hope for in a girl. I hope I'm not going too fast." He glanced at me hopefully. I shook my head in a taunt manner. "Well, I just wanted to bring you down here so I could do something." That caught my attention. What was he going to do? "What?" I asked semi-sheepishly. "This." Harry rushed in and pressed his lips—against mine. One of the places they really did not belong.

While I was being forced into this awkward (how many times have I used that word to describe Harry/something that pertains to Harry?) kiss, I heard Ron's familiar voice piercing the quiet. "Hey, Harry, you better—" Silence. What happened to Ron? I broke the kiss quickly and whipped my head around. Ron looked—I can't even explain it. I guess like his best friend betrayed him. He didn't look angry; he looked helpless, betrayed, upset, and pained. I felt a thoughtful pang in my heart; poor Ron. I wondered if he liked me—_liked _me. And maybe he told Harry, or maybe he didn't. Either way, he had an excuse to be upset, but not at the same people or for the same reasons.

"Ron?" I asked quietly. Ron looked from Harry to me. I scanned Harry's face; he didn't look smug or upset or apologetic—I don't think he knew he was hurting Ron. "Harry," stuttered Ron, "how _could _you?" I guess Harry knew…? Or maybe he didn't and Ron was blaming him. Or maybe Ron told him or hinted and Harry just didn't quite pick it up. Or maybe he was busing plotting his surprise attack on me.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but he was immediately stifled—Ron _lunged _at him and clear knocked him off of the bench. I shrieked as they tumbled down and _plunged _into the murky and unfamiliar waters.


	6. A Heroic Rescue and a Little More

**To All My Amazing Reviewers: Hey, guys, thanks so much 4 reviewing! I didn't realize Harry Potter was so popular with Hannah Montana, since this is my most reviewed story. To those wondering: I didn't pair Ron with Hermione because I wanted a little difference in the story. Everyone expects them to be together, and I wanted to be different. Hermione will find someone I'm sure. I just don't know who yet. ******

I kept shrieking and running around the bench, flapping my arms. I probably looked a little mentally challenged there for a second, but I had no idea what I was supposed to do. My cell phone didn't work, and even if it did, I doubt that 911 can make it to a hidden island containing a wizardry and witchcraft school. I decided that I should stop running around like a total idiot and go by the water to try and pull the boys out. Neither of them was fighting. They were just lying in the murky, green water, backs pressed against the grainy sand, shivering. They were probably developing a case of hypothermia! I had to lift them out! I had arms strengthened from years (about) of mike holding and dancing. I could do it. I grabbed one of their arms (I didn't know whose, since both of their skin tones changed to super pale) and located the other. I pulled both of them gingerly (not by their hands in case I should damage their wrist), and Ron's body surfaced. There wasn't much I could do to warm him at the current time, so I set him aside and felt around for Harry's arms. Unfortunately, the second I located one, I jostled it and (since Harry's body was unluckily perched on a "sand dune") Harry plunged down deeper in the water. In case you don't understand where they were, I'll tell you; they were on top of this sand dune and their faces were pretty much covered except for their noses showed slightly, so they could breathe. I couldn't see their faces, but I knew they were there, if that makes sense. And since Harry just fell off of the sand dune, if he wasn't rescued quickly, he'd become unconscious and shortly afterwards, _dead. _The Boy Who Lived, killed by mere water…okay, so that meant nothing to me. I didn't know who this Voldemort person was, or what I was up against. All I knew is that I had to rescue Harry! And quick!

I stripped off my robe until I was just wearing a measly undershirt and some boxer shorts (the girl type that are short and stuff). **A/N: I don't know what they wear underneath Hogwarts robes, so I just put this. I'm pretty sure they were an undershirt with the Hogwarts logo or something, but I'm not so sure what they wear waist below. **I quickly checked to see if Ron was staring. He wasn't. He was _sleeping. _Whatever, I guess it made sense. I collected my hair and gathered it into a high ponytail. I used my spare holder to fasten and secure it. Deep breath, Miley, I thought. 1, 2, 3, _JUMP!_

I dove heroically into the water. Don't worry, I jumped far enough that I didn't hit the sand dune (or are those called sand bars?). I couldn't see much because the filmy water blocked a couple of my senses. I guess that was a bad thing, and a good thing; bad because I couldn't find my target, but good because I couldn't see the fish or algae that were most likely gathering around me (ew x 3,000!). After a second of feeling, I touched skin. I immediately groped around for a limb I could pull. I found his arms (luckily) and yanked roughly on them. Hopefully I didn't break anything. I planted my feet in the sand momentarily and then shot up, Harry in tow. I reached the surface and greedily gulped fresh oxygen. I pulled Harry up, who was still slightly unconscious from lack of air and the impact of Ron's hit (which was why I had to initially rescue him). He breathed slowly and sputtered.

I knew it was Harry when he looked at me faintly and stated, "I think I need extra CPR." I smiled. For the first time, when I looked into his emerald green and pearly eyes and took in his ragged (but stylish) black hair, I sensed something more than gratitude, friendship, and respect; I think I sensed _love. _

"I think you do, too," I replied matter-of-factly, leaning in and giving him the best CPR I'd ever given.


	7. Meeting Snape

After Harry was "breathing" (like he wasn't to begin with), Ron (picking a great time to snap back) teetered over to us and helped both of us up. "Listen, mate," he began, addressing Harry, "I'm really sorry about that. I couldn't (and can't) explain what happened to me. I promise you it'll never happen again." Harry smiled. "It's fine, Ron, really. I understand," he said comradely. I smiled. "My two favorite boys in the entire castle," I said truthfully, slinging my arms around both of the blushing boys. Ron suddenly froze. "We should get back to the castle immediately. We're late as it is and we're going to receive at _least _one detention!" he suddenly shouted. All three of us made a mad dash for the castle, limbs flinging all over the place as we ran. We yanked open the door to find a tall, greasy-haired, pale man standing in the doorway, grinning this sickening smile and glaring at us deviously.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley," he spat ferociously. He fixed his glare upon _me. _"And who might this young lady be?" Flustered, I answered his question: "I'm Miley Stewart, the American whose owl was delayed." I figured the second half was necessary, since he'd probably wonder. The man eyed me curiously, but with a hatred burning (it was almost unperceivable, but not). "Well, Miss Stewart, if I remember correctly (and I normally do), you, come next Saturday, are my new private pupil, so to speak. And come tomorrow, you will be my new public pupil. Not a great way to start off a relationship, eh?" he asked jokingly (in a way that was only funny to him), chuckling a cruel, cold laugh. I resented him immediately. And I figured out who he was—Snape the Snake. Great. He stopped mid-chortle. "Miss Stewart, I understand that you are unfamiliar with the way things run around here, but when a teacher addresses you with a question, no matter how unimportant or foolish it is, you respond respectfully and instantly." His black eyes bore through me. I snapped my eyes shut quickly for a moment (he inflicted so much unnecessary pressure on me!) and breathed. "No, sir," I forced through gritted teeth. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. "Well, well, well, Stewart, I suppose you're just like the rest of the Gryffindor scum. Twenty points from Gryffindor—per perpetrator." I totaled that up quickly—sixty points! Okay, so I didn't _really _know what a point was, but it had to be good if this horrid man was extracting them. "And for the individuals…." Snape looked greedy, probably calculating the worst possible (but legal) punishment for us "Gryffindor scum" and "perpetrators." I guess he missed the mark. "Two consecutive detentions!" Pfft, that was nothing. All we had to do was sit around in a closed-off room for an hour or so. Fine with me. But Harry and Ron didn't look so good. "For the boys; Potter, you will be polishing every single plaque and award in the trophy room until they glint gold! And Weasley, you will serve your detention helping Professor McGonagall clean her room after the seventh years finish Transfiguring animals that make quite a mess. They will take place on Saturday and Sunday. Stewart, your first detention is your private tutoring session with me on Saturday. That should be punishment enough. And I'm scheduling another tutoring session on Sunday. Enjoy." And with that he slinked away.

I was fuming. I loathed him passionately without even really knowing him. And I knew that I was looking forward to my first weekend at Hogwarts about as much as I looked forward to Jackson's toenail day.

**A/N: Sorry for lack of length. I will update soon and faithfully as I've been doing.**


	8. Detention and Dances

**A/N: Sorry for lack of updating! My new Hannah Montana/Clique story had a nice kick off and I was caught up in it! Sorry.**

**SNAPE'S DUNGEON**

"You are exactly five minutes late, Miss Stewart," spat Snape, looking at me like some infectious disease. "I will not tolerate such disrespect. I expect you bought all of your proper materials, correct?"

I stared at him blankly. I was supposed to bring materials? Snape shook his head in disgust. "I suppose you forgot! Imbecile," he muttered under his breath, then returned to normal as he said, "Alright, then, we'll just go over written material. You may borrow one of my books this _one _time. Next time and you will receive a detention just like your friends'. Now get the book immediately and turn to page thirty-two." I dashed across the room, hoping not to upset him—was it fair that he automatically hated me? I grabbed the book in the best condition—which wasn't even good—and turned to page thirty-two. After subtly blowing off some of the dust and polishing the book slightly, I was ready.

Snape opened his mouth and facts began spewing out of it that I'd never heard before. Words were being used that I'd never heard before, such as "doxy venom." I scribbled down as much as I could in a notebook I'd brought. After twenty minutes, Snape looked at me expectantly. "So?" he asked. I gulped nervously and attempted to return his death stare. He made this disgusted sound. "What have you learned?" he snapped, pacing back and forth slowly. I gulped again and, with my hands shaking and my voice cracking, read my notes. He let out a small grunt of frustration when I'd finished. _"Pathetic!" _he shouted. "I see you have not learned a thing in the past twenty minutes! I just handed you an O-deserving paper (**A/N: In case you didn't know, the grades are different—O is for outstanding**) on a silver platter and you cease to accept it! I see. Well, we'll just have to work much, much harder then, won't we? Ten points from Gryffindor!" He turned away so I could ponder the unjustness of this. I was probably turning red with anger. How _dare _he do that to me? He was prejudiced against me because of the people I knew and the house I was put it? I wondered if the headmaster knew, but he probably did—who _wouldn't _report such an atrocity to someone who could put a stop to it? But why _hadn't _Dumbledore done so? 

After an hour or so (it seemed like two days more) more of being worked to the bone, Snape said coldly, "You are dismissed. I will see you back here at the exact time. You will not be late." I nodded reluctantly and turned, sticking my tongue out at him indirectly. I could've _sworn _I heard him chuckle as I left the dungeon.

**THE COMMON ROOM**

Harry collapsed into a chair and Ron returned from the bathroom, where he'd been throwing up (ew). "I pity you, Miley," Harry said in that totally adorable accent. "No matter how disgusting and unbearable our detentions were, we couldn't understand how you were feeling unless we multiplied our suffering by ten!" 

"That makes me feel much better!" Ron said cheerily. "It doesn't do _me _any good," I lamented dramatically, following suit and falling back into a cushy chair. Ron sat on the floor, still looking slightly green (and pale at the same time, if that's possible). Hermione walked in importantly (like always). "Hello, Ronald, Harry, Miley," she said seriously. "How were your detentions?" 

"Fine, thank you," Ron said, mocking her tone. Hermione glared at him indignantly and then ignored him completely. "So, Miley," she said to me, "are you going to the Welcome Ball next weekend?" I opened my mouth to reply but Harry (practically) shouted, "What ball? We never have a ball in the beginning of the year!" Hermione stared at him as though he were crazy and said, "Didn't you check the bulletin board over there? It's the pink paper tacked up in the middle. It's pretty hard to miss." 

"Maybe we don't look for 'fun outings' every second," Ron remarked. Hermione rolled her eyes. "Childs' play, that's what it is," she murmured. "So, Miley," she repeated in a normal voice, "_are _you going to the ball? And, if so, who with?" I thought about everything that had happened to me in my first week at Hogwarts. "I suppose I will," I said slowly and uncertainly, "but I don't know who I will go with. Nobody's asked me and I don't want to go alone—I'll look stupid." 

Harry immediately shot up out of his seat at the same time as Ron. "I'll go with you!" they shouted simultaneously. I blushed. Here we go again, I thought to myself. "Boys, you guys are both the most amazing guys I've met—trust me, we don't have _any _genuine boys like you back in California—but I can't go with both of you!" Ron suddenly took a deep breath. "You should go with Harry, then," he said even slower than I had earlier. "You two fit better together." 

I threw my arms around him quickly. "Oh, Ron, that's so sweet," I cooed. "But who will you go with? You're not going alone, are you?" Ron looked around the common room, either searching for a date or making sure we were alone. "I suppose I'll ask this beautiful girl I've had my eye on since first year," he stated, his cheeks turning the color of his hair. 

"Who's that?" Harry said, raising his eyebrows and nudging Ron.

"Hermione." 


	9. Letters and Secrets

Hermione fainted in shock, and I felt flustered and dizzy

Hermione fainted in shock, and I felt flustered and dizzy. Harry just gawked at his best friend the second the word left Ron's lips. _"Hermione?" _Harry shouted. "As in _Hermione Granger?? _As in the person right over there?" He pointed an accusing finger at Hermione.

Ron blushed heavily. "Um, yes," he admitted. "I am going to tell you the truth—I've admired Hermione for a very long time. And now is the perfect opportunity to start something."

Hermione blushed even harder than Ron, although he was a redhead and she was a brunette. "Oh, Ron," Hermione mumbled, sighing embarrassedly. Then Ron did the most curious thing. He pulled her into a warm embrace and _kissed _her full on the lips.

Hermione, Harry, and I all gasped simultaneously. "Ohmigosh," I whispered to Harry, who looked as pale as a ghost. Hermione's gasp was stifled, of course, as her mouth was covered with Ron's. My girly instincts taking over, I cooed, "Aw, that's so sweet."

Ron broke the kiss and weeded his hand through Hermione's. "So will you go with me to the ball?" he asked romantically. Hermione smiled meekly. "Of course I will, Ronald."

"We'll leave you two alone for a second," Harry said seductively, backing out of the room, pulling me with him, and shutting the door. Harry and I started talking, mostly about how shocked and unprepared we were for Ron's little surprise and Hermione's big response. After about half an hour in the common room, an owl flew through the window with a letter attached to its foot! I expected it to be addressed to Harry or Ron or Hermione, but it had _my _name scrawled on it with fancy letters. I tore it open excitedly, hoping for something from my home. It was my father's messy handwriting.

_Dear Miley, _it read, _I miss you terribly! And Jackson, well, he's still Jackson, I guess. There's really no other way to describe him, as you might have realized. Without your smiley and bubbly personality in the house, it's been desolate and empty. I am hoping to reunite with you as soon as possible. I tried writing a postage-stamp-covered letter to you and snail mailing it, but the post office couldn't send it. Then I remembered the personalized note the administration office of your school sent me, and I scanned it. It advised me that owl-carried notes were efficient. Thankfully, I found some queer building near the regular post office that specialized in owl-carried notes. Also, when I tried emailing your laptop, it kept telling me "Send Failed." And text messaging obviously doesn't work with you, either. Well, I assume you are having the time of your life. Now, the real purpose of this letter is not for me to tell you about how much you are missed back home or how much I wish you'd quit ignoring me, but how, after I disclosed your whereabouts to your other "manager," Margot Klar, she became instantly excited. When I asked her to explain, she said that a venue nearby the school's location had requested Hannah Montana to perform for one night a month. I have enclosed a separate note with permission for you to be excused from classes or studies at the times requested. Also, make sure that you do not let any of your classmates in on the secret unless you are sure you can absolutely trust them! Preferably, keep your "other identity" a secret. I hope that this letter does not befall any harm and that it reaches you privately and safely. I love you, and I hope you have a great time at the concerts! If you can, please write back! I miss your humor and voice, and if I can have one of them, I will be satisfied. Love, your father._

A tear streaked down my cheek as I realized how much I missed my father (and even Jackson). I'd been so swept up in the overwhelming magic and drama that I hadn't thought about home. And then two more tears splashed against a wooden desk in the common room, one for each of my two best friends, Lily and Oliver. Little did I know of course, that Harry had been reading every single word over my shoulder.

_Even the part about Hannah Montana. _


	10. Deception and Sleazballs

**A/N: Hey, guys! Here is another chapter for you guys. I'm going to try and get back 2 quickly updating, but after I got back from SP and Florida,I couldn't come up with anything! But then it hit me, and here's some more stuff. I will update my HM/PC story ASAP, okay? But this one has more demands, so...yeah. Thank you guys so much.**

"Other identity? Hannah Montana? Performing? Concert?" Harry spat, reading off the words from the letter. I whipped around, my eyes forming slits. "Why did you read my mail?"

Harry ignored my accusation and sneered, "I thought you told me everything. I was the 'only one you could trust.' But I guess I was wrong." Normally, I would be devastated and forlorn in this situation, but I was frustrated and angry with Harry for getting into my personal business, especially some of such importance! Why did he do that? "And I _thought _I could trust you enough to have _some _morals and not read other people's personal and private stuff! Is it really that hard?" I fired back, sticking my nose up in the air snottily.

"Whatever, Stewart," Harry scoffed, "but you'd better treat me with more respect. I would hate it for your secret to get out." The color drained from my face, but I didn't let him see. Of course, I was used to having people threaten against me when they found out my secret, but it was worse to hear it from someone who I felt had no right! He barely knew me! He couldn't _do _that. It wasn't okay under any circumstances.

"That would make you just as filthy and sleazy as the paparazzi I deal with every day," I hissed. "I have no problem handling another _slimy little rat _like them. Bring it on." He forced an uncomfortable laugh, and I could tell I was majorly intimidating him. "Fine," he said, "but remember—you are just a novice in magic. I could blow you across the planet. Watch yourself."

"I don't need _magic," _I smirked. "I've been dealing with rats, sleazballs, losers, people with no life, and pathetic jerks for two years without the assistance of sissy magic, and I can handle another one of those without it, too. Only cowards resort to things they cannot comprehend. So goodbye Harry and good riddance. I have a concert to prepare for. The first venue show is this Friday, as in two days."

And with that, I stomped off, leaving Harry, dumbstruck, in the room.

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The next morning, I ate in the Great Hall off by Ginny, a Gryffindor I was comfortable around. Although it was slightly awkward after the whole episode with her brother and his puppy-love crush, we dealt with it maturely. But that morning she was acting majorly odd and distant, as was all of the other people I found closely affiliated to Harry. I assumed he told everybody my secret in his little loser loop, but I didn't care. I would be rid of this school as soon as I pleased. One simple trip to the owl postage area and I'd be free.

"Ginny?" I asked impatiently. "Are you alright?" Ginny shook her head as if to wake herself up from a deep sleep. "Um, yes, I am," she said awkwardly. "Sorry. I didn't get a lot of sleep." I decided to test her excuse. "Oh, really?" She nodded. "So, have you ever heard of Hannah Montana, a famous America singer?" Ginny's eyes bulged. "I don't recall I have…." she mumbled, her eyes looking elsewhere. "Ginny," I whispered, "I know that Harry told you and I know that you know. It's alright. I expected him to spill, and I can handle it. Do you know?"

Ginny nodded discreetly, motioning towards where Harry was sitting, whispering to Hermione and Ron. "I'm sorry," Ginny said, "I should've come straight out and told you I knew. I don't understand why Harry blew up like that. It was your right to keep the secret a secret, considering how life-altering and big it is. I just didn't want you to know someone else knew, for fear it would upset you. Please know that I instructed Harry to not tell anyone besides whom he already told, and he promised not to. And, also, please know that I won't treat you differently or hold it against you."

I smiled. "Thank you so much, Ginny," I said genuinely. "That's probably the nicest thing anyone's said to me since the little 'incident.'" I reached over and gave her a small hug. Just as I was doing so, Hermione sat up and swung her legs over the bench. Then she began walking over to wear Ginny and I sat.

"Um," she murmured quietly, "I just want to say what a _pleasure _it is to meet you, Han—I mean, Miley. I never said that, and I just am so happy I got the wonderful opportunity. And just so I can remember what a lovely girl you are, may I have your signature on this piece of paper, right by Orlando Bloom's?"

I smiled as if I didn't think this strange. I signed the name "Hannah Montana" in the indicated spot. She stared at it and squealed, then gasped, "How'd you know that I know?"

"It's sort of obvious, as most girls don't say that meeting another girl is a 'wonderful opportunity' and a 'pleasure,'" I pointed out. Hermione smiled uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for what Harry did to you, but please understand that Ginny and I have stopped him from telling anyone, especially Malfoy or any other Slytherins. But I also want you to know how amazing you are and how fascinating I think your secret is! It must be very trying and difficult to keep it under wraps for so long and to decide who is trustworthy enough! And your voice is beautiful, just in case you needed some positive feedback."

I grinned. I wasn't expecting my secret and lying to be accepted to graciously.

"Thanks," I said sincerely. "Thanks a lot."


	11. Concerts and Surprise Guests

**A/N: As I said on my Clique/HM story, I'm super sorry for being so MIA (missing in action) lately! I've been really super busy and I've been kinda blank-minded and I don't think typing a lame chapter every other day is better than waiting for a good chapter (which I hope this is!). Thanks for being patient and I hope I still have my reviewers and fans with me!**

**A/N2: OH MY GOSH I AM SO SORRY FOR PUTTING UP A CLIQUE/HM CHAPPIE LOL THEY LOOK ALIKE IN MY DOCUMENTS SINCE THEY R BOTH CHAPPIE 11 AND I ABBREVIATE THE TITLES IN THE DOCUMENT MANAGER. THANK YOU FOR BEING EXTRA PATIENT! LUV U.**

The night came more quickly than I would've liked. Soon I was picked up in a British limousine outside of the castle grounds (after lots of hullabaloo about it, I finally got permission to leave the castle grounds and go where I was needed, although I didn't specify where) and on my way to the first stop in my British tour. I had no clue what was going to happen or who I'd see, but I felt confident that no Hogwarts students would show up, since permission to leave school grounds without parental consent and lots of arguing is difficult, if not impossible.

My cell phone finally worked after piling up with messages. I text messaged everyone and told them my cell phone had been acting odd lately and that I would not be able to respond to their text messages frequently. After the message sent, I felt slightly calmer, and I was relieved to see that my dad was calling.

"Hey, bud!" he said cheerily. "Are you at the concert yet? How far away are you?" I relayed the question to my driver who told me that we would be arriving shortly. "We'll be there soon, Daddy," I assured my father. "That's good," he agreed. "Listen, bud, I just want to tell you that I hope you have a great show and that I'm sorry I can't be there tonight—British airlines are all booked with fanatics trying to get overseas for your show, I reckon; why else would tickets be so pricy and planes be so overbooked suddenly?"

I forced a chuckle, and it felt good on my nervous wreck of a body. "Thanks, Dad, for the compliment…it _was _a compliment, right?" I teased. Before he could respond, the driver pulled up into the VIP parking lot of the place. Dedicated fans are already dwelling in the shadows, and paparazzi are snapping all the photos their memory cards can hold. "Sorry, Dad," I shouted into the receiver over the roar of the crowd. "I'm here! I love you a lot and I'm so glad you called. Bye!" And I hung up. Feeling guilty about cutting my dad off so soon, I stepped out of the limousine and waved to my fans. Then I hurried inside immediately to start rehearsal, sound-check, and the necessary cue sheet meeting.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"And if I messed it up sometimes/Nobody's perfect/Nobody's…perfect/No, no/Nobody's perfect!" I sang into the microphone, wrapping up the concert. The strobe lights were so blinding that I couldn't get a proper look at my audience, so if any Hogwarts students had managed to get to the concert, I didn't know about it. "Thank you so much for being here tonight!" I screamed joyfully. "It's a pleasure to be in Europe, touring and singing for you guys! I think this is the best audience of the month!" I wasn't lying; it was my first concert of the month. "I love you all and I hope you have a great night! Rock on!"

I exited the stage quickly, and the stage security guy stopped me politely. "Excuse me, Miss Montana," he said meekly, an attribute I never thought I'd associate with such a big guy. "Someone claims to know you and wishes to see you."

I turned and saw some familiar black hair dangling in green eyes with rickety glasses covering them. But most of all, I saw a lightning shaped scar.


	12. A huge apology from MileySmilez

**Author's Note/Apology: **I feel so bad for having not been on or updating to this story in so long. I shouldn't have started it if I wasn't one hundred percent sure that I would finish it, so I really apologize. My schedule is suddenly really tight, but if there's one story you REALLY want finished, please message me and I will contribute to it and finish it.  I'm so sorry, and I hope I didn't lose any of my loyal readers, haha. Thank you guys. xox


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